With the SCAS firmly lodged in the groves of Anna's index fingerprint, we saw the eye that we'd just departed, squinting and reflecting the livestream on her phone. It darted between our tiny spot in her careful hold, and our reactions on the livestream. "Well," she started, "prepare to be surprised."
She suddenly flung her left arm out, what seemed like hundreds and hundreds of miles in the distance. The sleeves of her tie-die t-shirt hung open, waving like massive curtains to welcome our entrance. We could practically feel our classmates trying to hold back excited, ticklish giggles as she brought us in the darkness beneath her shirt. The SCAS was well-prepared to rebalance against sudden movements. Nevertheless her subtle hand shaking rocked our seats.
People close to me began looking to the window in shock or covering their faces when they saw where we were going.
"No waaaay, that's Anna's left armpit!"
"It smells... seriously..."
"Coool!"
"Those stains on her shirt look soooo huge from here."
"Mr. Kintobotnik, turn us back around! We can't learn anything here, Anna's just being a weirdo!"
Our teacher, looking back from the pilot's seat, shook his head. "It's our host's turn to choose, and there's a lot to learn about the underarms. Or in technical terms, the axilla."
"Yeah! My armpit's gonna be so interesting." Anna kept smiling.
The finger carrying our class made its landing in a soft, gooey remains of deodorant gel. Our SCAS was safely glued onto a tiny clump that was stuck to one of Anna's tiny, clean-shaven armpit hairs. The hairs spread a long distance, looking like an orange forest, or a city of gigantic, wobbly skyscrapers.
"Cool!" She exclaimed above. "Tilt the camera, I wanna see what's going on there!"
The livestream's camera turned to display her skin below. Mr. Kintobotnik panned over them and explained, "you can see, those larger pores where follicles grow from are hair pores; and the smaller ones lining your skin are sweat pores."
Anna seemed really excited by this. Not only were her hairs standing on end, she was secreting huge globs of sticky, juicy sweat. It seemed to gush out of the tiny holes on her body like volcanos, then trickle down, leaving streams of humidity on her beige skin. One of the waterfalls of sweatdrops made the reddish hair platform tilt and bounce under its weight, everyone screaming and laughing like it was a thrill ride. But I couldn't help but stare at every little droplet. "You could have a pool party in one of those drops!"
Mr. Kintobotnik pointed down to the stands of sweat trickling down. "Even ignoring the laws of gravity, your party may not last long. Sweat like that evaporates in sunlight to lower the body's temperature"
Another student asked: "Why's it so thick here? There wasn't nearly this much sweat on her finger, or around her eye!"
"While most of the body has eccrine glands, armpits - and some other parts - have apocrine glands. Their sweat contains far more proteins and fats, making it, well, stickier."
Anna kept staring at the phone screen. "Hah, you think that's a lot of sweat? You should see me when I'm exercising! Then it really stinks up the place!" She pumped her first up and imitated pumping a dumbbell. Instantly, the gargantuan, meaty mass of her underarm squeezed into the SCAS, knocking it off the hair and sending it careening deep into the flesh. We were tossed about in the darkness, squashed inside her deep armpit, slipping like a waterslide. If we were a bit bigger, she could've crushed it; as is, we were the perfect size to be pressed up against her skin. "Whoops." She lifted her arm back up, brining light back in our world. "I got carried away."
"As long as it doesn't happen again." Dr. Kintobotnik got back to his feet, dusting his legs. "Incidentally, it's not exactly sweat generating that smell. It's your microbiome. Many bacteria love living in dank, oily places. When they break down the proteins you secrete, it generates a smell - unique to each person, because nobody has the same bacteria. The bacteria and your smell changes with time - like when you enter puberty."
Anna laughed. "Bacteria... like you guys are right now. Haha, anyone wanna move in?"
"Grooooss!"
"No way! The food at my mom's is way better than feeding off this gunk."
"What if I fall off? Not happening."
I said nothing, but I wouldn't have minded that. Something about Anna's smells, even blocked by the SCAS' frame, was really addicting. Salty, kinda like onions on a burger. If she let me, I could vividly picture myself spending a long time exploring beneath her armpits, living like a little microbe.
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